


Dear Eros

by Nolifefound



Series: Slices of life & love!!! On Ice [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Coach Victor Nikiforov, Episode 06, Eros Routine, Fantasizing, M/M, Pining Victor Nikiforov, Sexy Katsuki Yuuri, Victor being weak, Victor can't take it anymore, Yuuri being beautiful, Yuuri is dangerous for his sanity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-08 21:25:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10396503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nolifefound/pseuds/Nolifefound
Summary: "'Don't ever take your eyes off me' Yuuri whispered. His hot breath brushed Victor Nikiforov's lips and his fingers almost crushed Victor Nikiforov's. There was electricity in the air between them.Beijing, ISU Grand Prix : Cup of China, men's Short Programs. The last competitor of the first group, the figure skater Yuuri Katsuki, champion of Japan, was about to take the ice. Everyone's eyes were on him. Especially the ones of his coach."During the Short Program of the Cup of China, Victor realizes Yuuri is not performing the Eros of the pork cutlet bowl anymore. He found his inner Eros and it is a bit... overwhelming.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I had this headcanon / idea in my mind for weeeeeks so I needed to write it down. I watched the Eros routine of ep 6 at least 30 times imo (DID ANYONE NOTICED THE VOICE OF YUURI DURING HIS VO INNER MONOLOGUE ??? HIS VOICE IS SO SEXY LIKE ???)  
> As always, it's not beta'd and I'm not a native english speaker so there will be grammar mistakes and typos for sure. Sorry !
> 
> I have to be honest, I totally rushed the end of this one shot because I am planning a multi-chap fic for w e e k s now and I just wanted to finish this before starting the SERIOUS STUFF. It's going to be a mix of canon and a 4 Weddings 1 Funeral AU, so if you're interested, I'll talk a bit more about it in the end notes.
> 
> Don't forget to leave kudos and comments ((to scream about the sexy monster Katsuki Yuuri lmao)) !! They give me l i f e <3
> 
> You can find me
> 
> <https://www.tumblr.com/blog/nolife-found>
> 
> on Tumblr !

"Don't ever take your eyes off me" Yuuri whispered. His hot breath brushed Victor Nikiforov's lips and his fingers almost crushed Victor Nikiforov's. There was electricity in the air between them.

Beijing, ISU Grand Prix : Cup of China, men's Short Programs. The last competitor of the first group, the figure skater Yuuri Katsuki, champion of Japan, was about to take the ice. Everyone's eyes were on him. Especially the ones of his coach. It was actually hard for him to look at anything but Yuuri when their faces were two centimeters far from each other, and it was hard to look at anything else when Yuuri was his confident and assertive self. The determination in his eyes was surprising enough for Victor to be astonished. All the Russian man could do was watching him, silent and subjugated.

He could see the rays of gold in Yuuri's eyes. He could see and count each one his short, thick eyelashes. He could see his nostrils flaring under his heavy breath and feel the hot brush of his expiration over his own skin. He could see the glow of the young man's moisturized lips and smell the camellia perfume of his own balm on them. He could feel the warmth of their fingers squeezing, sink in the softness of Yuuri's skin against his.

Their hands lacing, their foreheads bumping, the whisper : it all felt like eternity, like a moment out of time for Victor and Yuuri. Except, in reality, it lasted a mere five seconds. It was there and overwhelming an instant and the next one, it was all gone. The skater's hand left Victor's. The skater's boiling eyes tore away from his. Yuuri swung in an impulse of the hips and glided farther across the ice, away from Victor, arms opening as to receive the cheers of the now roaring crowd. To Victor, that loud cheering across the rink, the speaker announcing Yuuri's short program, Yuuri himself…it suddenly seemed far. His gloved fingers, the ones tangled with Yuuri's a minute ago, raised to his forehead. Thoughtful. Their touch felt nowhere as hard and warm as the younger man's face did against his, and Victor would have doubt he didn't dream everything if it was not for the slight pain remaining under his skin after the bumping of their heads.

Victor took a sharp breath. Air never felt so dense and heavy in a rink before. That was odd. He was a five-time ISU Grand Prix gold medalist and he took part of (and won) a bunch of competitions all over the world, including the the Olympic Games. None of it actually had been a big deal to him. Or, well, not that much. He knew he would win before the events even started anyway. He just had to go on the ice and skate a perfect program, what he was the best in the world at. Routine. Why making a big deal out of it ? No reason, really. But. But, there he was, at the Cup of China in Beijing, _behind_  the wall of the rink - without his skates, and it was surprisingly the most tensed and enthralling time he ever had in a competition. He was waiting for a program he choreographed himself, skated by a young Japanese he coached himself. For months. He knew what was going to happen ; he was confident, he was positive, he was his cool and happy self deep inside. But the air was dense and heavy, it was hard to breath, his heart was beating too fast and his head was spinning a bit. He wasn't sure if he was worried, excited, apprehensive or all at once. It was strange to feel both confident and worried, positive and apprehensive. That new range of emotions and the disconcerting mix of them was new to Victor Nikiforov. Also, pretty confusing. And it was all because of - or thanks to ? -Yuuri Katsuki.

Victor's eyes focused on said slim figure coming to a stop at the center of the rink, slowly taking the starting position of his short program.

_"He's far different today. What's flipped his switch ?"_

That was hard to tell. It was exactly the reason why Victor was feeling so…complicated. Why was Yuuri so different today ? What happened ? Was he going to be alright ? What kind of Eros was he going to portray ? Victor could barely think or gather his mind, a bit too flustered to his liking. Once again he was left able to wait and watch only, as Yuuri told - required him. The Russian's fingers fell to cover his lips instead of his forehead, silver eyebrows drawing together. He was going to watch, then.

With hips shifting to the right in a wave of his half-skirt and his left knee bending to allow his toe pick to set on the ice, eyes closed and head ducked, Yuuri was ready. When he stopped moving, the time seemed to stop as well. Just like that, he drew the whole arena's eyes on him. Wide eyes. Some breaths were hold. The suggestive shape of Yuuri wrapped in mesh and velvet and sparkling under the bright lights of the rink brung silence in the arena. People were not used to that coming from him - the strong sexual sense - so people were staring, waiting in awe for what was to come, music or movement. They would take anything. At least, Victor would. _Victor would_. His clear blue eyes were sharp, body stiff, mind tensed waiting for the smallest shift. He was suspended to Yuuri's lips, eyes, hips, everything. He was supposed to know perfectly what was to come. Yet, he had no idea what was coming.

Until, finally, the first, fast guitar notes rose in the rink.

Yuuri's dark eyes fluttered open and the tip of his pink tongue darted out to lick his upper lip, slowly. Tasting. Teasing. It was Eros, a new Eros. An unanticipated wave of hotness swiftly stormed into Victor's whole body and his stomach painfully clutched. A shiver ran down his spine but it has nothing to do with the cold of the ice rink. And while his dilated pupils were religiously following the course of Yuuri's tongue, his vision blurred and something blew his mind.

He didn't needed to close his eyes to see it. Nor to remove his actual clothes to feel it. There was Yuuri, kneeled in front of him, in his - Victor's - dark and sparkling costume. Yuuri, beautiful Yuuri, Eros Yuuri, was kneeled in front of him and looking up at him through his thick black lashes, with eyes warmer than spiced chocolate. He was disheveled, hair messily slicked back, and flushed - pink from the tip of his ears to the tip of his nose, and blewing hot hot _hot_ breaths on Victor's naked abdomen's skin, and his tongue... His warm, pink tongue. Suggestive, tantalizing tongue. It was out but not licking his upper lip anymore. It was on Victor's body : it was slowly running up the split between his tonned abs. It was leaving a cool, damp trail on Victor's shivering skin, a swirling, boiling feeling under it, and _god_  Yuuri was looking at him right in the eyes while licking his abs and that was the sexiest thing anybody ever did to him.

Victor blinked. His eyes met Yuuri in the center of the rink.

The fantasy was gone as quickly as it came, leaving him dizzy and terribly, terribly confused. His lips were parted under his fingers and he couldn't help but pant, and there was a feeling in his body he had not felt for a long time. That was making it hard to concentrate on the skater's performance. Not objectively.

Yuuri's hands ran up his arched body then down again, drawing his lines and curves in the air and it was not possible not to follow it, praise it. When he arched back and wrapped his arms around his face and shoulders in a smooth motion, people were already enthralled by the music his body was making and the story it was telling. He skated backwards, pushed away some imaginary admirers to clear his path, then came to a firm stop on the ice and turned his head to meet Victor straight in the eyes. Whatever he saw made him lift his chin, smirk, proud and oh so provocative Victor's breath hitched.

It hit him at that exact moment. What was different between now and all of the other times he saw Yuuri skate that performance ? Eros. Finally, Yuuri was skating with his own Eros - no more women or pork cutlet bowls to hide behind. It was exactly what Victor asked him to do but the result was honestly far beyond his expectations. Yuuri's Eros was like a wild dream. His body and the movements of his body weren't just making music anymore, they were creating a story and images. They were trying to seduce Victor. More like _succeeding_ to seduce Victor. Yuuri was dedicating his Eros to him and he wasn't hiding it.

Victor decided that he liked that very much.

The violin and castanets joined the guitar and the music started for real, fast paced, high pitched, heady. With Yuuri launching himself in his first step sequence and putting all of his soul into it, it was not possible not to be entranced.

There was first this small and graceful jump where he was lifting his - had it always been so long ? - leg in the air. Then, he was using his arms and his hands to both attract and reject his invisible lover, both hide and highlight his swinging, swirling body. His legs and feet were dancing freely, smoothly, leaving then meeting the ice effortlessly, throwing his whole body into swift spins. He could stop for a second then get going again, unpredictable. The half-skirt of his costume was flaring around his hips with his every movement and the jewels on his chest sparkling brightly. There wasn't a single part of him that wasn't begging, craving for attention. Yuuri's body was urging to be touched, loved, worshiped by the souls around him. It was a plea quiet and desperately loud at once and, well, kind of answered by Victor. At least, very well heard. The desire to give Yuuri what he was madly dancing for quickly became painful, constricting the man's chest and throat, dropping heavy in his stomach. His face felt hot, too.  
How unfair was that ? Yuuri making him feel so bad - so good - and being absolutely oblivious to it? Unfair, I'm telling you. He just had to dance and Victor just had to watch and it happened. He was caught up just like that.

Curious thing that it felt déjà vu, absolutely not reminding him a certain banquet, a certain competitor / (pole)dancer / heartbreaker… _Absolutely not_.

Why was he loving it ?

He clearly was.

Each and every little bit of Yuuri's step sequence was a blessing, could he been spinning, gliding, flying - he definitely was flying. The smallest move was…hard to describe ? Victor never had been good with words. Obviously, neither was him with feelings.

At some point, Yuuri managed a beautiful inside Spread Eagle and the coach in Victor had to comment it with a thrilled "Perfect" ! Because his student was amazing and because that's what he was there to do. To coach. Not to stare.

_Not to stare._

Right ? He was not supposed to forget to observe, criticize, cheer Yuuri on, the basic coaching stuff he, in fact, had no idea how to do properly. Maybe he should have asked Yakov for advice instead of running away from him earlier. Yeah, well. Too late anyway. Victor just had to gather up his mind, focus on the step sequence that came to an end with a Camel spin when the tone of the music changed, deepened, and oops he couldn't resist anymore.

Because of Yuuri's long, thin leg extended backwards. Because of the tensed muscles of his strong thigh and slim waist, the perfectly round outline of his ass clad in black velvet, the strands of black hair escaping his neat hairstyle to flutter around his temples... And because of his closed eyes, flushed cheeks and lips curled up in an expression of pure delight. He was the perfect embodiment of Eros. Victor knew he would even before he decided to coach him on this sensual short program, because of what happened during the banquet after the last Grand Prix Final, because of his obvious crush for Yuuri Katsuki. But to actually face his confident-and-sexy-hidden-personality-of-Kastuki-Yuuri fantasy ? It was too much.

Yuuri, coming out of his spin, turned his back to Victor.

 _It was too much_. Vivid colors and sensations and new fantasies flowed out of control in Victor's mind. He couldn't fight them : the images instantly exploded in his brain. Yuuri, back turned to him. Yuuri, ducking his head, watching him under a veil of ash black lashes. Yuuri, asking him for help unzipping his costume with a tint of sultry in his usually quiet voice and _god_  the bottom part of Victor's body was suddenly feeling very wrong. His lips formed a perfect "o" around a quiet moan. He then released a shaky breath. His delusion counterpart was way less flustered than the real him when he laid his palm on Yuuri's shoulder, the other hand reaching for the slider nested near the young man's nape. And pulling it. Slowly.

Going down the diagonal of the zipper… _slowly_.

Unveiling a shoulder blade and white, smooth skin.

Skin, again and again…

Then the small of his back. Next, the birth of his -

Victor promptly closed his eyes, his knuckles white in his balled fist. The fingers of his right hand were pressing hard against his lips to lock them shut. He shifted from his left to his right leg. Took a deep breath - it would help calm down, it definitely would - and reopened his eyes.

Yuuri - the real Yuuri - bent, extended an arm in front of him. He was so elegant he could have been mistaken for a swan taking flight. He almost reached the frozen floor, caressed it with the tip of his fingers. That was like dedicating his whole performance to the ice. An authentic touch of poetry in the hot mess of Eros. Except Victor's gaze had stopped on Yuuri's ass the whole time and that was not poetic at all.

In his defense, the ass was pushed upwards. Towards him.

A second later, that indeed beautiful ass was still pushed up but Yuuri's costume had been mysteriously pushed as well. Down. It was now a pool of velvet on his lap. The whole thing was obviously a new trick played by his mind because Yuuri definitely wore underwear under his costume. This illusion wasn't even realistic... but Victor wasn't sure if he wanted it to stop, not anymore. He just stared. The blue of his eyes slowly got eaten by the black of his pupils. He already saw Yuuri bare chest, in a costume that left little to the imagination, even naked ! So he could tell that what he had in front of him was true-to-life. And the young Japanese's body was beautiful from absolutely every angles. Especially this one.

Yuuri had impossible legs. Seriously impossible. His thin thighs hid powerful muscles now tensed to keep his position - on his knees, back arched and ass pushed upwards. Victor's in bloom pupils traveled all across that display. Even though it was fuzzy, even though it wasn't real and he knew and _f_ _elt_  it - it was intangible, like a ghost covering his eyes and dipping into his skin - Victor's eyes focused on the young man's ass and his blood started to boil in his veins. Yuuri Katsuki's ass was beautiful. Muscular and perfectly, perfectly round.

Victor bit his fingers. His face displayed nothing but pain. Yuuri's perfect ass... it would feel so, so damn _great_  under his hands. Il would feel so soft under the rub of his spread palms. Il would feel so hard and strong under the pression of his thumbs, and so hot under his fingertips, and just so beautiful once offered, opened under his eyes and for his only. Yuuri probably would be panting, biting his lower, swollen, glossy lip to hold his excited moans. Victor, enraptured, would slowly be playing with his cheeks, massaging and spreading them and feel his heart pond like crazy, whole body shaking, abdomen twisting and insides burning with the raging flames of his desire. And Yuuri would shiver under him, his touch, maybe wiggle his hips unconsciously. He would be his. His only.

At some point, they would probably both get naked and change position. Maybe try different things. A lot of things.

Victor noticed in his haze that his protégé landed his triple axel, then his quadruple salchow. Could be useful later. Like, when he would have to act like the coach he was supposed to be.

What if Yuuri sat on his chest ? He would look down at him, stare from above, radiant in the new-found confidence in his own charms. He would breath through his parted lips, chest rising relentlessly, flushed from the tip of his ears to his pectorals. Maybe one of his hand would slide down Victor's abdomen, stroke it playfully. That would make the Russian arch. Yuuri's other hand would reach for one of his own nipples, pinch it between his thumb and forefinger, roll it slowly. Tug, twist, caress...

Spins, steps, quadruple toe loop, triple toe loop.

What about Yuuri's face ? He would probably smirk. His lips would be red and glistening with saliva, curled up in that rare sly smile of his. Cheeks and nose flushed, he would hide other evidences of his great shyness behind a gaze darkened by lust and long eyelashes. The picture was perfectly clear in Victor's mind. So clear it was actually, physically painful. Lust was tensing his whole body and his desire was too much, too grand to keep it for himself... Except he had no other choice : he was a _coach_  in front of a _rink_  in the middle of a _competition_. So why, why was it so hard, for once, to hide all of his feelings ? He was good with the fake smiles, he had always been before he met Yuuri, but that man came like a storm in his life with his drunken boldness, shy smiles and millions of surprises, and he changed everything just by being himself. And he had no idea of that, of course, because he also had to be oblivious of all things ! Victor was pining for a very dangerous creature. Soon, Yuuri Katsuki would be the death of him.

The music quickly rose, intensified, more enthralling than ever and Yuuri heartily entered his last spin sequence. A camel - that leg extended, again..., a shotgun - _that leg -_  then sitting spins, and he was spinning relentlessly, then upright spins and Victor's head was swirling with him, ultimately lost in a nowhere between reality and dream.

It needed to stop or he was going to faint right there, right now.

 _Stop_.

The violin soared one last time in the company of the guitar, Yuuri glided out of his mad spinning. The audience was enthralled and following him with a dedication probably religious when he threw his imaginary lover away  ; the commentators themselves were at a loss for words.

Finally, the music dropped. People were on their feet in a second : the crowd exploded in loud cheer and applause for Katsuki Yuuri, standing still in the middle of the rink with his arms wrapped around his chest. He was tired, he was sweaty, trying to catch his breath, and he was victorious and beautiful.

Victor finally got caught up with reality. More like, it slammed him in the face : screams, applauds, tears, a rain of plushies… _chaos_. So he pushed his thoughts, embarrassment and confusion aside, and burst and jumped out of joy, happiness, pride, even if he was completely lost on the inside.

Yuuri made it. It was all that mattered.

Even if he realised in the back of his mind that he had created a monster.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo about that 4 Weddings 1 Funeral AU ! Things you can expect:  
> \- Figure skating  
> \- Champagne  
> \- SMS and SNS  
> \- A lot of vows  
> \- Best men speeches  
> \- A lot of (subtle or not) references to my senpai-s fics and AUs  
> \- Pining dorks  
> \- Useless conversations  
> \- Useful best friends
> 
> I have exams and conventions to attend soon (being a cosplayer is hard my friends) but I think I should be able to post the first chapter in about a month, then update every 3 weeks ? If anyone is interested ofc. Tell me in the comments ! <3


End file.
